Chance Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire 6) (5 page)

An absent smile lingered on Chance’s lips as he turned and unzipped her jacket, then shoved the warmest of her layers off her shoulders.

“You’re happy,” she said softly, unable to take her eyes away from that subtle curve on his lips.

“It feels good to be with my friends. They’re the reason I settle here between tours.”

“You’re an outdoor guide.”

“You researched me?”

“Maybe. Even if I didn’t, Hardware Jack told me all about you and Dalton with little prompting. He even told me about how you and Dalton hunt for the old folks in town who can’t hunt for themselves anymore.”

Chance shoved Vera’s bright purple glittery winter coat to the side and hooked Emily’s black jacket underneath. “Hardware Jack has a big mouth. We didn’t do that for praise.”

“What do you mean?”

With an irritated sigh, Chance muttered, “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

“Because that’s part of keeping in the town’s good graces?” she asked, confused.

“Is that really what you think?” he asked, the dimple completely gone now.

“No, I just don’t understand. I’m sorry. I’m not meaning to make you feel heavy again.” He was making it hard to breathe, and she struggled to inflate her lungs all the way.

“Heavy,” he repeated, resting his hands on his hips, which somehow made his shoulders look even wider.

“When you get angry,” she whispered.

“No, it’s not part of some fucked-up plan to win the town over. Hardware Jack shouldn’t out good deeds done in secret. They don’t mean as much if the giver of the deed is doing it for praise. Does that make sense?”

“You like to do nice things, but quietly.”

“If you couldn’t hunt anymore, and someone did something nice for you, how would you feel if the whole town was talking about how someone brought you meat?”

“I would feel like a charity case,” she murmured, feeling like grit. “I understand now.” Chance and Dalton were secretly good. Not only that, but they were sensitive to the people they helped.

“You look all mushy,” he accused, eyes narrowed to bright green slits. “Don’t fall in love with me, woman.” He leaned forward and whispered against her ear, “I’m the monster, remember?” His smirk was devilish as he eased away. His nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled. “You smell like pheromones.”

“Poppycock.”

His blond brows jacked up and humor danced in his eyes. “Poppycock?”

“You heard me, sir. I am unaffected by you.”

“Here,” Vera said, handing Emily a shot glass of something clear. Tequila, she’d venture to guess.

With a giggle, she clinked it against Vera’s shot and downed it. Vera pulled a hilariously disgusted face, then threw her arm over Emily’s shoulder. “We’re going to be friends, okay?”

“She does this,” Chance said apologetically.

“I mean it,” Vera said, pulling another pair of shots from the waitress’s full tray. She handed one each to Chance and Emily, then held up her own. “To new boink buddies.”

“Vera,” Chance warned.

Her face went bland and her voice monotone. “Fine, to new relationships.”

“There you go.” Chance took his shot with them, but when he went to put his empty on the tray, he narrowed his eyes at Vera, who was standing there with her index fingers smashed together and making kissing sounds.

Emily was trying not to laugh, really she was, but Chance looked so irritated and Vera was so funny, and now the infamous little fox shifter was dragging them by the hands to the dance floor as a heavy-beating boy band song came on over the sound system. Elyse grinned from the jukebox and danced toward them, dragging Ian.

“The whiskey has hit,” Emily admitted, slurring slightly as Chance danced in front of her.

“And the tequila,” he said, glaring at Vera as the little woman bounced around them chanting, “Boink, boink, boink.”

“I would apologize for her, but there’s no point,” Tobias yelled over the music.

“It’s okay!” Emily called, feeling ridiculously happy in the middle of all these dancing, gyrating shifters. Grabbing Vera’s hands, she bounced and chanted right along with her, giggling uncontrollably.

And now even Chance had lost his grumpy expression and was grinning as he watched her. Surprisingly, he was a good dancer. Good rhythm, masculine on the dance floor, smooth. Vera twirled her twice, then pushed her toward Chance, who caught her and dipped her, then twirled her toward Elyse and Kate. Lena stood a few feet away, taking pictures and laughing from her diaphragm. The next song brought a dance line, and she and Chance did the Egyptian on their turn, and as they stood on opposite sides, clapping and whistling, his eyes didn’t leave her. And she understood. She was trying to figure him out, too. He and Dalton took a turn, dancing like spry little fairies in a meadow, and by the end of it, Emily couldn’t breathe she was laughing so hard.

God, how long had it been since she had this much fun? Had she ever had this much fun in her life? She couldn’t remember laughing so hard. She couldn’t remember just letting go and acting silly. Not since her best friend had moved to the lower forty-eight her senior year in high school, and that was a long-ass time ago. Uncle Victor would poop a sea creature if he saw her cavorting with the enemy like this. But the more she thought about it, the less she cared. Tonight was for her, not him. The past year had been devoted to his war that he was waging, not her. Tonight she was going to have fun and cut loose like a twenty-six year old should do.

By the time the fourth song ended, she was three sheets to the wind. Vera handed her another shot, but when Emily gave Chance a worried look, he took action immediately, pointing to a couple making out in the corner. And while Vera was distracted by the couple, Chance stood in front of Emily, blocking Vera’s view of her. Smoothly, he took the glass from Emily’s hands and passed it to a man who was walking past the dance floor.

Thank you
, she mouthed to Chance as Vera pulled her toward the bar.

“We’re gonna dance,” Vera said, collecting Lena, Kate, and Elyse as she wove through the crowd.

“We’ve been dancing,” Emily said, scrunching up her nose and attempting to walk straighter.

“I mean on the bar top.”

“Oh, no, I’ve never done that.”

Vera turned abruptly and cupped her cheeks. “I like your hair.”

Wide-eyed, Emily murmured, “I like your sparkly top.”

“I like your sparkly smile.”

Okay. “I like your gold eyes.”

“I like your lips.” Vera squished Emily’s cheeks between her palms and turned her face toward Chance. “Those are BJ lips. She’d be a good mate.”

“Vera,” Tobias warned.

“I would make a really good girlfriend,” Emily said through fish lips. “I’d give, like, ten BJs a day. What’s a BJ?”

Chance was biting back a smile now, sexy man. “It’s a blow job.”

Vera cackled and released her cheeks.

“Oooh,” Emily said as understanding dawned on her. “On your penis.”

Chance pursed his lips and looked heavenward before he gave her a nod. “Yeeep, on my penis.”

“I’m gonna dance on the bar top now,” she slurred.

“I think you should,” Chance said.

“Don’t be jealous.”

“Of your moves?”

“No, of all the boys who will fall in love with me when I do this.”

“I’ll try to contain myself.”

“I like your shirt. It’s all tight and sexy, and I can see your muscles.” She poked one of his abs and jammed her finger. It would probably hurt tomorrow when she could feel her body again.

“Come on, McBJ,” Vera said. “First rule in seducing a man. No compliments. They don’t know what to do with them. Not like we do. Gustave! We’re going to dance!”

The bartender didn’t even look surprised, as if Vera had done this in his bar before. “Vera, I’ve told you ten times now, my name isn’t Gustave. It’s Kevin. Get on up here.” He ran a rag down the bar top, wiping up the rings of water, then called out, “Drinks off the counter, boys. Shots are a dollar for this song!”

The bar erupted in cheering and lewd whistles as Vera scrambled onto a barstool and then up onto the counter. Emily helped Kate up, because baby-on-board, and then she scrambled up herself and grinned down at Chance as he steadied her.

She’d had boyfriends before, but those relationships had ended because she had a tendency to pick controlling men, but could only deal with so much. But Chance was laughing with the others. He maneuvered himself right in front of her, as though he was protective of her and didn’t want her to fall. She liked that he let her do what she wanted. But then, what did that mean? Maybe he wasn’t controlling because she wasn’t his, and he didn’t see her as more than a friend. Pity. She wanted more whiskey kisses.

The music blared over the sound system, and Vera did a ridiculous little shimmy, her top throwing pink sparkles all over the bar. She spun, did a Michael Jackson crotch grab, then pointed to Emily. Dear goodness, she was doing this, and now people were clapping in rhythm to the beat.

Waggling her eyebrows at Chance, Emily wiggled her hips, then turned, did a terrible robot, then pointed to Kate beside her. When they hit the chorus, she and the others were dancing together, feeding off each other, some moves sexy, most very un-sexy, but all hilarious as Emily nearly busted her gut laughing.

A man below her grabbed at her ankle and shoved a dollar bill upward toward the waist of her jeans, but Chance grabbed his hand, gave him a lethal glare, and the man made like a cow and moooved to the other side of the bar.

After the song was through, Chance gripped her waist with his impossibly strong hands and settled her on her feet in front of him. With a giggle, she melted against his chest. “Did you fall in love with me?”

The smile dipped from his lips, and with a quick look around, he pulled her toward the exit.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Outside.”

“But I’m not ready to leave. I have to say goodbye to everyone.” She balked, locking her legs and skidding across the sticky wooden floor.

Chance grabbed her jacket and hooked an arm around her waist, then pulled her out the door. She was more pliable outside when there was no chance of saying a quick farewell to the others. He was mad. She could tell in the rigidity of his back and shoulders. Chance pulled her into the small alleyway between the bar and the next building and yanked her jacket onto her arms.

“I was just teasing,” she said, lurching from his grip. She could zip her own damned zipper.

“You can’t say shit like that to me, Emily.” Full name. Burn.

Emily rested her back against the cedar log wall, as far away from him as she could get. She glared at him. “You’ve joked with me all night, but you get sensitive about that?”

“You’re a fucking Hell Hunter. You can’t pull my wolf to you. You shouldn’t. That’s not what is happening between us. It can’t be. Do you understand? I have to be okay to find another after this. After you leave, I have to be freed up to find what Dalton and Kate, Vera and Tobias, and all the others have.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“You’re binding me to you!” Dalton ran his hands roughly through his hair, paced away and then back. His eyes were only a shade darker than snow right now. In a ragged whisper, he repeated, “You’re binding me to you.”

“I didn’t know. I don’t know how this stuff works for you. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m being pushed and pulled too, Chance.”

“Don’t say my name right now. Not like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, too loud, too forcefully, because she was falling down a black well of confusion, and maybe she wouldn’t ever reach the bottom.

“I can see it. I can imagine it, Em. I was watching you up there on the bar dancing with all the people I love, who I protect, who mean the world to me, and I can see you fitting in so seamlessly. And it makes me want things I can’t have. We were supposed to be friends, at a distance, and you were supposed to observe us, to see that we aren’t the monsters you think we are.”

“You aren’t monsters—”

“But I’m different from you! We’re from two completely different worlds, and not just human and shifter. You’re trained to hunt us, aren’t you?”

Chest heaving, she nodded slightly. There was no point in lying. He’d guessed everything from the moment she’d entered his life.

“You’re trained to hunt us, and I’m putting you right at the heart of the only thing that matters. And you…you have this uncanny ability to blend in. You could take everything from me, and now you’re binding me to you?”

“And you don’t want that.”

Chance shook his head slowly as he backed away and rested his shoulder blades against the wall across the alley. In a tortured voice, he said, “I want it more than anything. Just not with you.”

She felt slapped. No, more than that, she felt gut-punched, slapped and cut off at the knees all at once. “Oh.” She swallowed hard and pushed off the wall. “I…”
Care about you. Would never hurt you or the people you love.
“It was nice to meet you, Chance Dawson.”

Feeling utterly numb, she made her way to her ATV and found the strength not to look back. She was tired. Tired of men toying with her emotions. Tired of the roller coaster she’d found herself on. Tired of herself and everything else.